


When You Came Out of the Dark

by jackles67



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:19:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackles67/pseuds/jackles67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen doesn't really know why he told the guy who'd been basically harassing him that he'd go out with him. And now they're at the opening night for some circus freak show that the guy seems to think qualifies as a proper date location. Jensen's just itching to leave until they enter a room where the 'freak' on display is a winged man, beaten and bruised. Jensen can't seem to get the man out of his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Came Out of the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Когда ты вышел из тьмы](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076198) by [Маленькая сосна (Small_pine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_pine/pseuds/%D0%9C%D0%B0%D0%BB%D0%B5%D0%BD%D1%8C%D0%BA%D0%B0%D1%8F%20%D1%81%D0%BE%D1%81%D0%BD%D0%B0)



> **This was originally written for[this](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/63218.html?thread=19890418#t19890418) prompt over on the spn kink meme (the prompt contains major spoilers for this fic).** This fic is unbetaed.

 

Jensen checked his watch again. 7:58. The guy was now a solid 28 minutes late. Jensen sighed and flipped his coat collar up, watching his breath curl into the crisp night air. October was coming to a close and Jensen wondered if the guy - Gary, Jensen reminded himself - was going to take him somewhere Halloween themed. He hoped not. He figured, worst case scenario, he’d have to sit through a bad movie and mind numbingly boring dinner conversation. Jensen couldn’t believe he’d let Danneel talk him into going on this date. The guy - Gary - had been dropping hints about as subtle as an anvil for the past month and a half even though Jensen had done his best to make it clear he wasn’t interested. And then Danneel had to go and practically blackmail Jensen into accepting this pointless date that couldn’t possibly lead anywhere.  
  
“Jensen!” Jensen turned and saw Gary waving him over from a cab. “Get in, we’re gonna be late!”  
  
Jensen rolled his eyes - whose fault was that? - but got in the car.  
  
“So. Where are we going?” Jensen asked, trying to sound excited.  
  
“I can’t tell you that, it’s a surprise!” Gary somehow made a simple sentence sound sleazy. Maybe it was the wink.  
  
It certainly was a surprise. The cab wound its way to the edge of the city, into a packed parking lot, to the front of an outdoor venue with flashing lights proclaiming: “One Week Only! The Colt Circus! One Week Only!”  
  
“Circus?” Jensen asked, raising one eyebrow. At least it was original. Gary just grinned. Jensen tried not to shudder.  
  
They bought tickets (Jensen insisted on buying his own; no need to give the guy any more ideas than he clearly already had) and entered through a strangely narrow and dark hallway that opened into a large, open area. This wasn’t really like any circus Jensen had ever seen before (granted, he hadn’t seen many). Rather than having one stage encircled by the audience, this circus consisted of a series of cages and stages arranged in a circle, the center of which was filled with people milling around, cotton candy and popcorn in hand. Gary excitedly tugged Jensen toward one of the cages, which Jensen was somewhat horrified to see contained an actual lion.  
  
“Isn’t that illegal?” Jensen muttered, not thinking Gary could hear him.  
  
“Probably,” Gary replied uncaringly. Great. The guy really had absolutely no redeeming qualities. Jensen let himself be pulled from cage to cage, vaguely trying not to let his boredom show. It appeared there were two kinds of exhibits: animals and people. The animals all looked miserable. The people, on the other hand, seemed to be naturally gifted performers. Unfortunately, their performances mostly involved lifting dubiously heavy weights and wearing facial hair not commonly seen on members of their gender. When it seemed they’d finally completed the circle, Jensen opened his mouth to suggest they leave.  
  
“Look at this! A winged man!” Gary exclaimed, pointing to an arrow-shaped sign pointing to a tent slightly outside the main circle. Jensen sighed and followed Gary. One more sad, caged creature wasn’t going to kill him.  
  
The tent was oddly stuffy inside, somehow too warm. Jensen was surprised to see that he and Gary were the only spectators there. A cage stood in the very center of the tent, and inside knelt a man. This man, unlike the people displayed in the exhibits outsider, was not performing. In fact, he didn’t appear to be doing anything. He was kneeling, stringy brown hair covering his eyes, wings crooked around his body, presumably to cover it. There was a large bruise along the ribs clearly visible in his back, and another spreading along his shoulder blade. As Jensen followed Gary in circling the cage, he saw the heavy shackles around the man’s ankles.  
  
“He’s more impressive when he stands. You want me to make him stand?” The small dark haired man seemed to materialize from the shadows.  
  
“No-”  
  
“Yeah! I bet it’s big, doesn’t it look big Jensen?” Gary interrupted Jensen’s No thank you and Jensen gritted his teeth and held his tongue.  
  
The small man grinned, then picked up a knobby wooden cane and knocked against the cage.  
  
“Stand up, Tweety. C’mon, the people wanna see you. Stand up! Don’t want me to use this, do you?” At that, the winged man started moving. He slowly, gingerly got to his feet, visibly wincing when his back straightened.  
  
“I’m Sheppard, by the way. This one only listens to me,” the small man said with a malicious grin, before turning back to the cage.  
  
“Wings too! Come on!” Sheppard’s voice was somehow simultaneously cajoling and threatening, and it set Jensen’s teeth on edge. Then the man straightened his wings. He had bruises in various stages of discoloration on his arms, legs, and torso. Several gashes marred his stomach and chest, which Jensen noted were perfectly sculpted. He wore a sort of loincloth, which Jensen guessed was supposed to look angelic. Maybe it would have if it were clean. The winged man didn’t lift his eyes from the floor, but his wings stretched behind him, as much as they could in the limited space. Jensen could see many of the brown feathers were bent or crooked, and his fingers itched to smooth them down.  
  
“Wanna touch them?” Sheppard asked Jensen, clearly having noticed him staring. He prodded the left wing with the cane. The wing flinched back. Jensen was about to insist that they leave, wanting no part in the torture of this poor stranger, when a group of middle aged men and women stumbled into the tent. He fell back as they oohed and aahed over the winged man, meaning to tell Gary he wanted to leave, when he realized Gary was right up against the cage along with the rest of them. They were all reaching in, trying to grab at the man’s wings. The man curled himself into a corner of the cage, covering himself with his wings and trying to make himself smaller. It would have been funny, this ridiculously tall man trying to seem small, if it weren’t so incredibly sad. Jensen wanted to say something, wanted to stop everyone from trying to pet the man like an animal, but couldn’t seem to find his voice.  
  
Sheppard was unlocking the cage, and Jensen breathed a sigh of relief. Finally. The winged man (Jensen refused to think of him as Tweety) looked like he needed to get out of that cage. He looked like he hadn’t left it in days, in fact. Jensen felt sick as he realized that could very well be true. He felt even sicker when he saw that Sheppard had put down the cane in favor of another pair of shackles. Jensen looked away, though he couldn’t block out the clinking of heavy chains and the tittering and whispering of the spectators. His eyes fell on a small, tarnished plaque at the base of the cage. It read The Fallen Angel in flowing script, and under it, in plain capital letters, “LUCY”. Jensen glanced back up at the man. He certainly didn’t look like a “Lucy”, but then, what were the chances of that being his real name? Maybe the plaque was left over from a previous inhabitant.  
  
The lack of clanking chains and the suddenly quiet crowd pulled Jensen back to the present. The winged man, “Lucy”, was chained to a large table, chest pressed against the wood, wings strapped down with leather. Jensen couldn’t understand why Sheppard had put him in this position at first, as the wings were far less impressive restrained this way, but they he saw the eager hands creeping toward the ruffled brown feathers. They were petting him. Not like someone would pet a dog, no, this wasn’t intended to produce any pleasure in the creature before them. The crowd poked and prodded the wings, gasping when they jerked away. One man kept tugging on the smaller feathers at the edge of the wing, as if hoping he could wrench them out. Jensen heard a pained groan and realized it was coming from “Lucy”.  
  
“C’mon. Let’s get out of here.” Jensen physically removed Gary from the group of people, dragging him out the door. He couldn’t stop himself from throwing one look back over his shoulder. There were at least twelve hands on Lucy’s wings, grabbing, rubbing, pulling, but Jensen couldn’t seem to wrench his gaze away from the man’s face. His hair still covered his eyes, and yet... And yet Jensen could swear the man was staring right at him.  
  
“Thought you wanted to get out of here,” Gary whispered in Jensen’s ear, hot breath repulsing him almost as much as the way Gary pressed against him.  
  
“Yeah,” Jensen said shortly, finally turning away. He was distracted for the duration of the cab ride, even letting Gary slide a hand along his thigh and murmur in his ear. Jensen couldn’t hear or feel a thing anyway; he was lost in thoughts of bruised and scraped skin, chained ankles, and wrecked wings. After firmly telling Gary that he could find his way from the cab to his apartment, he found himself under a scalding hot shower, forehead pressed to the tiles, one hand inching its way slowly down his stomach. This wasn’t exactly a novel way to end a bad date night, but Jensen froze when he realized the images in his head weren’t of his favorite underwear model, but of “Lucy” bent over a table, spread in front of him. Jensen fumbled with the tap, turning the water ice cold and dunking his head directly under it. Unpleasant, but effective.  
  
By the time he went to bed, he was achingly hard again, despite trying to think of anything other than brown wings and that long, too lean body.  
  
***  
  
It hit Jensen the next morning. He was standing in front of the fridge, going over every curve and dip of Lucy’s body in his mind for what felt like the hundredth time, when he realize just how thin the man had seemed. He wasn’t quite emaciated, but he looked unnaturally scrawny, particularly for a man his height. Jensen’s mind was made up about five seconds after that realization. He didn’t have to work Saturdays anyway, and missing a workout wouldn’t kill him.  
  
The circus looked smaller in the light of day. Dirtier, too. Jensen walked in as casually as he could, smiling at the woman who sold him his ticket, nodding at the man gathering trash from the night before. It was open, but there were only a few other people wandering around. Jensen found his way to Lucy’s tent easily enough, and loitered around the entrance, trying to discern if there was anyone inside. The only sound was a soft rustling, like dry leaves in the wind. Jensen ducked into the tent.  
  
Lucy was kneeling again. His ankles were shackled, and this time, so were his wrists. There was a bowl in front of him, half full of water. Jensen approached slowly, first circling the cage to where Lucy could see him if he looked up.  
  
“Hey,” Jensen said, as softly as he could. Lucy flinched with his entire body, chin curling further toward his chest, shoulders hunching, wings curling protectively around his body. Jensen knelt before the cage. He dug through his bag and brought out one of the sandwiches he’d brought, and slowly extended his arm through the cage bars. At first there was no response, but eventually Lucy’s wings unfurled from around his body, and his head tilted up fractionally. Jensen heard a small gasp when Lucy’s gaze must have landed on the food. A large dirty hand shot out, then stopped a foot away from the sandwich, and pulled back to drop in Lucy’s lap. Jensen’s heart ached a little.  
  
“It’s okay. Take it, it’s for you,” Jensen whispered. Through the the curtain of brown hair between them, he swore he could almost make out a wide eyed stare. Jensen placed the sandwich as close as he could to Lucy and slowly backed away. This really was starting to feel like trying to interact with a wild animal, but Jensen had no trouble remembering that this was a person kneeling before him. Lucy finally took the sandwich with trembling hands, body visibly tensed as though awaiting a blow. Jensen held as still as he could and Lucy finally brought the food to his mouth. As soon as the sandwich touched his lips, he seemed to forget all about Jensen, and ate as though he hadn’t seen food in days. Jensen tried hard not to think that it might be true.  
  
The sandwich disappeared in a shockingly short amount of time, and Jensen repeated the procedure with another one, with a whispered "Try to eat it slow, okay?", and a water bottle. He opened it for Lucy, as the man’s hands were still trembling. Jensen tensed with anticipation when Lucy tilted his head back to drink, revealing a face that made Jensen rethink the symbolic nature of the epithet “Fallen Angel”. Even the yellowing bruise along one cheekbone and the slightly swollen cut on his lower lip couldn’t detract from the man’s beauty. Jensen waited for Lucy to open his eyes, to finally meet his gaze, but he didn’t get so much as a glimpse before the brown, stringy hair once again blocked his view. Jensen stifled his disappointment, and unthinkingly reached to take the water bottle from Lucy’s loose grip. Every muscle in the man’s body seemed to tense at once, standing out in clear definition. His wings, though... Jensen hadn’t noticed before, but his wings were strapped to the bars of the cage, and as Lucy panicked, his wings wrenched at the leather straps. The straps tore, and the brown wings came forward to arch threateningly above the kneeling man. Although still cramped by the cage’s confines, they seemed far more impressive with each feather standing on end, a display of power of which Jensen hadn’t thought Lucy was capable. The wings only stayed up for a moment before Lucy made himself as small as possible again, wings folded around himself, head bowed, limbs tucked in.  
  
“Sorry,” Jensen whispered. He stayed silent, unmoving, as the seconds stretched into minutes. Finally, just as Jensen was losing feeling in his legs, Lucy slowly stretched out his hand, the bottle held out like a peace offering. Jensen took it from him gently, resisting the urge to brush his fingers along the proffered hand. He tucked the bottle away and waited, but Lucy didn't move, aside from the fine tremor that seemed constant.  
  
"Can you leave?" Jensen asked, almost without meaning to. Lucy didn't seem to have heard, and Jensen was tempted to repeat himself, but waited instead, not wanting to seem pushy. Finally, the man's shaggy brown head shook minutely. No. Jensen had suspected as much, but now that he was faced with the reality of the situation, it seemed overwhelmingly bleak.  
  
Jensen sat like that, unmoving, a distorted mirror of the man before him, until he heard voices and footsteps outside the tent drawing nearer.  
  
"I'll be back. I promise, okay. I'll come back," he whispered urgently, before getting to his feet, knees protesting, and stumbled out of the tent and back to his life.  
  
Except his life seemed different. He'd driven to the circus, and his car seemed so safe and clean compared to the torture device he'd finally recognized the cage to be. His car was large enough that Lucy's wings would probably fit, possibly cramped, but still. Jensen tried to make himself stop thinking along those lines, and spent the afternoon working out and performing the most mindless tasks possible. It was perhaps not the best plan, as his mind seemed intent on wandering back to Lucy's nearly-naked body and and gentle, giant hands every chance it got. When Jensen finally fell asleep that night, it was after hours of tossing and turning, struggling to keep his mind blank and his hands from wandering.  
  
Jensen arrived at the circus too early the next day, and had to wait an hour before the doors opened. He had to stop himself from running directly to Lucy's cage, instead making a quick circuit of the other exhibits, trying to look like he was taking a casual Sunday stroll. When he finally let himself walk into the tent, the relief that slammed into him was almost palpable. He could feel the tension draining out of him, and he sighed before dropping to his knees before the cage.  
  
Jensen watched Lucy consume two large cheeseburgers with avid fascination. When Lucy was done, he accepted the water bottle and gulped down its contents. Jensen tried not to stare at Lucy’s long exposed neck, throat working, draining the water in two long pulls. He expected Lucy to place the water bottle on the floor between them, but flushed with pleasure when it was extended toward him, small in Lucy’s large hand. This time, Jensen dared to sweep one finger along the edge of Lucy’s thumb, and tensed, waiting for the inevitable recoil. It never came. Instead, a long, dirty finger stroked the back of Jensen’s wrist for a moment, before slipping away. Jensen was left breathless, and feeling somewhat ridiculous for it. He was a grown man, and yet the softest brush of skin had him practically swooning.  
  
That evening, in the shower, Jensen didn’t even bother trying not to picture Lucy as he let his hand drift down. Images of strong thighs and big hands whirled through his mind as he stroked his already hard cock. His hand was slick with soapy water and it didn’t take long before he was gasping and coming.

***

On Monday, Jensen told Danneel (and himself) he was leaving early from work because there was little to accomplish at the office, but the urgency with which he packed his laptop away didn’t escape her hawkish gaze.  
  
“Who’s the guy?” Danneel asked, casually leaning against Jensen’s office door. When he didn’t answer, she grinned.  
  
“That good, huh? Well, I’ll let you get to it then.” She turned her back on his sputtered denials, calling over her shoulder, “You’re lucky you can work from home. If I were you I wouldn’t even bother getting dressed tomorrow.”  
  
Jensen tried not to blush, sure everyone in the office had heard. Danneel was right about one thing, at least: Jensen could just as well work entirely from home. He came in to the office because it was sometimes the only social interaction he’d get for days. Danneel had made Jensen promise years ago not to become, as she put it, a “fucking shut-in”. Danneel was sometimes slightly terrifying, but she always had his best interests in mind.  
  
Jensen forced himself to walk out of the office at a normal pace. He stayed under the speed limit on the drive over, didn’t tap his foot or fidget as he bought a few sandwiches. Then he pulled into the now-familiar parking lot and saw a new sign in front of the circus: “MONDAY NIGHT: LAST NIGHT IN TOWN”. Jensen felt like a bowling ball had dropped into his stomach.  
  
When Jensen entered the tent, Lucy seemed subdued, wings pressed in tight around his body, head dropped even lower than usual. Jensen placed the sandwich in the usual spot and waited while Lucy ate. This time, when Lucy handed Jensen the bottle, neither of them let go. Jensen slid his hand up the bottle to Lucys wrist, and let his fingers drift up along the man’s arm. A dry rustling sound startled Jensen into looking up and he realized Lucy’s wings were trembling. Jensen examined Lucy more closely and realized there were dozens of new injuries covering his body, ranging from the gashes along his collarbone to a bruise covering several ribs. Lucy’s wings had not been spared. There were feathers sticking out at the wrong angle, some stuck together by what might have been blood. Jensen shook with anger as he realized how badly Lucy was hurt. He grabbed Lucy’s wrist, hard.  
  
“They did this to you?” It wasn’t really a question. “Why?”  
  
Lucy’s wings started shaking in earnest now, and he tried weakly to tug his wrist away.  
  
“Was it because of me?” Jensen demanded, sure that someone had seen him sneaking food to the tent. Lucy didn’t answer and refused to lift his head. “You have to get out of here.”  
  
All the tension left Lucy’s body at those words, defeat written so clearly along the lines of his drooping wings and bowed head that Jensen felt his heart contract. These people had taken such a beautiful, unique person, and so thoroughly destroyed him that he wouldn’t even lift his head. Jensen wanted to scream, hit someone, do something.  
  
“I’ll help you. I’ll get you out,” Jensen blurted out, unable to stop himself. Lucy’s head snapped up, and Jensen was hit with the full force of the most intense stare he’d ever felt. Lucy’s eyes were the strangest combination of mottled hazel, gold, and green, and Jensen could swear he saw some hope flaring to life in them. He had no idea how this escape might work, hadn’t even really considered it as an option until he said it, but he was determined now.  
  
A loud crash, followed by exuberant laughter and voices wrenched Jensen from his revelation. He whispered a quick promise to come back that night and tore his gaze away from Lucy’s with difficulty before ducking out of the tent.  
  
***  
  
Jensen parked a hundred yards away from the circus. It was just past one in the morning, and he could still hear voices, though the circus closed at 11. He crept around the edge of the main circle, heart hammering in his chest, breathing seeming far too loud. He reached Lucy’s tent just as someone was closing it, knotting ropes that tied the canvas doorway shut. Jensen waited, crouched in the shadows, for the man to leave. The man finally turned away from the tent, and Jensen realized it was Sheppard. He felt a wave of hatred surge through him and fought the urge to hit the man. Jensen waited a couple of seconds after Sheppard was gone, just to be sure he wasn’t coming right back, before unknotting the ropes and slipping into the tent.  
  
As before, Lucy knelt in his cage. His wings were wrapped in leather straps, held tightly against his back. The injuries looked just as bad as they had that afternoon. Jensen crept closer and noticed a fresh cut along Lucy’s ribs. He wasted no time in pulling the bolt cutters out of his bag and opening the cage door. Lucy didn’t even look up as Jensen reached around him to cut the chains from the shackles around his ankles. Jensen hesitated, then wrapped his arms around Lucy and pulled him out of the cage and to his feet. Lucy’s knees buckled and Jensen hauled him back up, noting that Lucy didn’t even flinch at the touch anymore. Jensen, stumbling and half dragging Lucy, managed to get them to his car. He settled Lucy in the back seat and drove home, struggling to stay below the speed limit and checking his rear view mirror every few seconds.  
  
Getting Lucy up to his apartment was an uphill battle, so to speak. By the time he finally let Lucy fall face first onto his own bed, Jensen almost wanted to join him. Instead, he set about cutting off the leather straps around Lucy’s wings. The wings shot open the moment they were released. They seemed to fill the entire room, knocking Jensen against the wall and sending his bedside lamp crashing to the floor. Jensen realized with horror just how small the cage must have seemed to Lucy.    
  
A whimper brought Jensen’s attention back to the motionless man lying on his bed. He considered trying to get Lucy into the bathtub, before dismissing the idea and fetching a warm, wet washcloth. When Jensen returned to the bedroom the wings were half folded, seemingly relaxed around Lucy, who appeared to be asleep. Jensen tentatively slid the washcloth along one muscular shoulder and sighed in relief when Lucy didn’t flinch or move away. He cleaned the worst of the wounds and tried to cover Lucy with the bedsheet before finally allowing himself to pass out on the couch.  
  
***  
  
Jensen woke with a crick in his neck and felt a moment of confusion about why he was on the couch before remembering the previous night’s excursion. He scrambled to his room, unnamed fear gnawing at his insides, but Lucy was exactly where Jensen had left him, wings spread softly across the bed, tips just brushing the floor. Jensen padded to the kitchen and started breakfast. After two strong coffees and some toast, he heard a soft rustling coming from his bedroom and crept down the hall to investigate. Lucy was shifting and kicking slightly in his sleep. Jensen caught a whimper, but it wasn’t until he heard the soft, muffled moan that he realized Lucy was having a nightmare.  
  
Jensen carefully ducked under one wing and gently tapped Lucy’s shoulder. The wings immediately folded to press against Lucy’s broad back as he twisted away from Jensen’s hand. Jensen held perfectly still as Lucy rolled away, pulling himself into a kneeling position on the bed, head down, hands in his lap.  
  
***  
  
Jared was deep in his usual nightmare - struggling to escape, to spread his wings, only to find them tangled in chains and ropes, holding him down - when a tap on his shoulder woke him. For a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was, why there was soft bedding under him instead of straw and metal, why he was being awoken with a soft tap instead of a sharp jab or an outright blow. When he felt his wings were spread wide around him, he realized he was finally out of the cage, and the previous night came back to him. He didn’t actually remember anything after getting into the man’s car, but he assumed this was where the man planned to keep him. Jared quickly rolled into his usual position, bowing his head to show his obedience.  
  
***  
  
“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. Let’s just get you cleaned up, okay?” Jensen asked, trying to keep his voice as quiet and soft as possible. There was a long pause before Lucy nodded his head almost imperceptibly and tried to stand up. He promptly crumpled to the floor beside the bed. Jensen ran to his side and pulled him up, sliding an arm around Lucy’s waist and slinging one of Lucy’s around his shoulders. With Jensen’s help Lucy was able to walk surprisingly well, and with the exception of passing through the doorway, they made it to the bathroom without any further collapses. Jensen tried to prop Lucy against the wall, but found that the man couldn’t stand without assistance, so he closed the toilet lid and sat him there while the bath filled with steaming water. Jensen awkwardly played with shampoo and conditioner bottles while they waited, then closed the tap and turned back to Lucy.  
  
“Do you think you can manage this alone?” Jensen asked. Another pause. Lucy finally shook his head, skin flushing pink under the dirt.  
  
“Okay,” Jensen sighed. He pulled Lucy to his feet and gestured at the scrap of cloth covering him. “You’ll probably want to...” Jensen looked quickly away as Lucy’s fingertips slid under the cloth, pushing it down and off. Jensen made a valiant attempt not to look down while helping Lucy into the tub.  
  
Jensen had managed to remove the worst of the dirt and dust on Lucy’s skin with the washcloth the night before, but it was clear the man hadn’t bathed in weeks, if not months. Jensen handed him a washcloth and soap and turned away. He turned back to Lucy when he heard a pained groan and found the man trying to wash his shoulder, the twist of his body pulling at a partially healed cut on his ribs. Without thinking, Jensen dropped to kneel beside the tub and took the washcloth back.  
  
“Here, let me do that,” he said, and slid the soapy cloth over one well-muscled shoulder, then the other.  He washed Lucy’s neck and chest as gently as possible, wincing each time Lucy let out a gasp or groan, knowing he was hitting a bruise or a cut.  Jensen nearly asphyxiated himself with brown feathers trying to wash Lucy’s back. When he came back around to Lucy’s front, the man was peering up at him from under a mop of dirty brown hair. Jensen considered Lucy’s hair for a moment. His wings wouldn’t allow him to tip his head back into the water, but tipping forward seemed like it might require a certain flexibility surpassing that of someone confined to a cage for an indeterminately long period of time. Jensen finally fetched a plastic basin and filled it with water. As he ran his fingers through the long, silky brown hair, Jensen felt Lucy relax. The tension seemed to seep out of him the more Jensen touched him. The last traces of conditioner having been rinsed from Lucy’s hair, Jensen handed the soap and washcloth back to him and said, “I’ll let you do your lower half, okay?” Jensen didn’t even blush. Danneel would have been proud.  
  
Jensen walked out of the bathroom to give his guest some privacy and went to heat up some soup. It was only 11 in the morning, but Jensen’s experience of how to take care of someone else was pretty much limited to the various colds and flus he’d had as a child, and somehow he thought that letting Lucy have the remote for the whole day might not be sufficient.  
  
A loud thud and a crash sent Jensen charging back down the hallway and into the bathroom, where Lucy was crumpled on the floor, Jensen’s framed print of The View of Arles beside him, glass shattered. Lucy was scrambling pick up as many pieces of glass as he could fit in one hand, and Jensen didn’t think before shouting “Stop!” Lucy immediately dropped both his hands to his lap and bowed his head. Jensen was about to tell Lucy to put the glass down, that he was going to cut himself, and demand what had happened when he noticed the fine tremor running along Lucy’s shoulders.  
  
“Hey, it’s okay. Here, look, you’re okay. I’m not mad,” Jensen said, in the same soft voice he’d used at the circus. Remembering the cage gave him an idea, and he dropped to his knees before Lucy and stretched out one hand. Lucy hesitated, seeming confused, and Jensen said, “Give me the glass, I’ll clean this up.” Lucy carefully placed the glass into Jensen’s hand and Jensen threw it away. He quickly picked up all the remaining shards and swept the bathroom, trying not to step too close to Lucy because every time he did, Lucy gave a full-body flinch, as though expecting a blow. By the time he was finished, Lucy was completely dry and shivering slightly. Jensen hauled him to his feet and half carried him back to his bedroom, where he began to help Lucy into a pair of boxers, blushing furiously. Lucy seemed to take pity on him and pulled the boxers on himself, as well as the sweatpants Jensen handed him next.  
  
“I don’t think my shirts will fit you,” Jensen said, eyeing wings resting gently against the bed. To his surprise, Lucy gave a soft snort of amusement. Jensen smiled, and asked, “Are you hungry? I made soup.” The loud gurgle from Lucy’s stomach was answer enough, and Jensen ignored the man’s cringe of embarrassment and helped him to his feet. They made their way to the living room, Lucy still leaned heavily against Jensen. Jensen settled Lucy on the couch with a blanket and served him a bowl of soup. He tried not to stare as Lucy practically inhaled the meal, accepting seconds and thirds. When he finally seemed sated, Jensen worked up the courage to ask what he’d wanted to know since he first laid eyes on this strange, beautiful man.  
  
“What’s your name?”  
  
Lucy’s eyes flew up to meet Jensen’s, and Jensen felt a rush of heat. He was suddenly aware of how close they were sitting, of the tingling warmth where their knees touched. Lucy’s mouth moved, as if he were trying to answer, but no sound came out. He coughed and cleared his throat, then spoke.  
  
“Jared.”  
  
Lucy’s ( _no, Jared’s_ ) voice was gravelly and broken, and but it was the sweetest sound Jensen had ever heard. He wondered how long it had been since Jared had last spoken. Jensen realized he’d been staring at Jared’s mouth and quickly looked away, though there was little hope that Jared hadn’t noticed.  
  
“Do you want to sleep more? Watch TV? We could watch a movie. You wanna watch a movie?”  
  
Jared’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t answer. Jensen chose a movie at random and slid the DVD in, settling himself back on the couch before pressing play. He tried not to be too aware of the long, warm body beside him, but Jared kept shifting and arching his wings, as if uncomfortable. Finally, Jensen hit pause and turned to Jared, who shrank back slightly.  
  
“Are you okay? Do you need something?” Jensen asked, trying hard not to sound demanding or impatient. Jared flushed crimson and lowered his eyes.  
  
“I need,” Jared started, voice barely above a whisper. “I need.... My wings need to be groomed,” he finished apologetically.  
  
“So groom them. It’s okay with me,” Jensen said, confused. Jared looked as though he’d committed some terrible crime.  
  
“I can’t. It’s.... Someone else has to do it,” Jared said, color on his cheeks deepening.  
  
“Oh.” Jensen wasn’t sure what else to say. He assumed Jared wanted him to do it, since he was telling him. “I don’t really know how, but I can try.”  
  
Jared nodded quickly, then fell to his knees in front of the couch, turning his back to Jensen. Jensen tentatively ran his fingers through the feathers nearest to Jared’s back, revelling in the smooth glossiness of the feathers on top, contrasting with the soft downy feathers underneath. He found himself straightening them almost by instinct, carefully rearranging and combing. The feathers weren’t a uniform brown, he noticed, but a myriad of shades, some a light chestnut, some a deep gold, some a ruddy maroon. As Jensen reached the the joint, he noticed that Jared was pressing back slightly, arching his back and his wings. Jensen applied just a little more pressure on his next stroke, and was rewarded by a slight shudder from Jared. When he did it again, the soft gasp that escaped Jared’s lips was enough to send a shot of heat through Jensen.  
  
By the time Jensen switched to the other wing, they were both breathing hard. This time, Jensen started at the tip of the wing, progressively lengthening his strokes to reach closer and closer to Jared’s back. When he had to press harder and harder to smooth a particularly unruly clump of feathers, Jared gave a groan and spread his knees slightly. Jensen desperately wanted to see his face, to see if this really was affecting him as much as it seemed, but he tried to retain some semblance of control.

Jensen’s fingers reached the point where feathers ended and smooth, tan skin began, and he couldn’t seem to drag his hands away. He ran his fingers along Jared’s back, down his spine and back up to his shoulders, before settling heavy on his neck. He gave a gentle squeeze to the tense muscle where neck met shoulder, then another, harder one when Jared sighed. Jensen kneaded the knots out of Jared's shoulders, neck, and upper back, and every sigh and groan pushed him closer to the edge. Jensen slid his hands back to Jared’s wings and raked his fingers through the feathers, hard, and Jared’s knees spread further, his back arching almost obscenely. Jensen repeated the motion, and his finger caught momentarily on one feather, giving it a small tug. Jared’s reaction was almost instantaneous: his hips jerked forward, his hands curled, fingers digging into his thighs, and a sharp cry tore from his throat. Jensen paused, then slipped his hands through the feathers and tugged gently. Jared’s hips jerked again, the moan falling from his lips unmistakably pornographic. Jensen couldn’t have stopped himself from taking the next large handful of feathers if he’d tried, and he really wasn’t inclined to try. He pulled on the feathers, softly and repeatedly this time, and was knocked back into the couch when Jared’s wings flared open.  
  
They filled the room; Jared’s wingspan must have been at least twenty feet. Jensen barely registered the sound of something crashing to the floor, too busy admiring the way the freshly-groomed wings gleamed. He noticed, however, when Jared quickly folded his wings and tried to scramble to his feet stumbling toward the broken dish. Jensen rushed to help Jared up, and Jared backed away from him quickly, falling to his knees and bowing his head. Jensen froze.  
  
“Hey. Look at me,” Jensen said, and cringed when Jared flinched. “Please. Look at me, Jared.”  
  
Jared looked up at the sound of his name, and Jensen saw nothing but fear in his eyes. He was immediately filled with revulsion at his own behavior. He’d taken this broken, battered man into his home, and instead of helping him heal, he’d essentially hit on him. Jensen knew he couldn’t expect Jared to trust him instantaneously, but he hoped that with time Jared would learn that Jensen wouldn’t hurt him. Jensen promised himself then and there that he wouldn’t take advantage of Jared, that he’d do whatever it took to ensure the man had a chance to recover from whatever nightmare he’d been living up til now.  
  
***

Jared hadn’t had his wings groomed in years. He sometimes wondered why his keepers never bothered, since his wings were the only reason people came to stare at him, but he was grateful. They may have forced him to accept thousands of strangers’ hands pulling, prodding, and petting him, but they hadn’t managed to invade that one intimate moment. He’d forgotten how good it felt, how safe and well-cared for he felt under gentle and wanted hands.  
  
Then he’d had to go and ruin it. Jared hadn’t meant to open his wings; it just happened. Of course, he’d broken something, and he knew what that meant. He knelt before his new keeper, ready to accept whatever punishment he deserved. He couldn’t stop the pit of cold fear growing in his belly though, and when his keeper asked him to look up, Jared found he couldn’t do it. Then the man had said Jared’s name, and out of sheer surprise at being addressed that way, Jared looked up.  
  
The disgust on the man’s face tore at something within Jared, and he ached to put it right. He itched to lower his eyes and show how good he could be, but the man had told him to look up, so Jared held his gaze. Trembling, he forced himself to speak.  
  
“I’m...” he started, voice breaking. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m sorry. I’ll be better, I promise. Please.” His voice started to take on a desperate edge and he stopped himself before he started begging not to be sent back.  
  
***  
  
“I’m...” Jared started to say, with visible difficulty. As he cleared his throat a strand of hair fell into his eyes, and Jensen had to fight the urge to tuck it behind his ear .”I’m sorry. I’ll be better, I promise. Please.”  
  
The guilty weight in the pit of Jensen’s stomach grew. The man was practically begging not to be beaten. Jensen couldn’t believe he inspired this level of fear in Jared and felt another stab of guilt, swiftly followed by a rush of anger at himself. He turned away, unable to face the evidence of his mistake.  
  
“It’s okay. Listen, I need to go run some errands. Are you okay here by yourself?” Jensen asked, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jared nod. Jensen grabbed his coat and practically ran out of the apartment.  
  
***  
  
The man turned away from him. Jared flushed. He was so bad, his own keeper couldn’t stand to look at him. The knot of worry in his stomach tightened, and he waited to hear his punishment. Instead, Jared’s keeper announced he was leaving, and asked if Jared could be alone. Jared nodded, careful to keep his hair in his face to hide the tears forming in his eyes.  
  
As soon as Jared was alone, he started to clean the mess his wings had made. It was difficult to move around the apartment without help, but he was determined to show his new keeper just how good he could be. Jared started straightening up the rest of the room and found a pile of mail on the table. Unable to stop himself, he read the addressee’s name. Jensen Ackles. Jared tried it out under his breath, and felt warmth curl in his belly. He knew he wouldn’t dare call his keeper by name to his face, but Jared liked the sound of it anyway.  
  
***  
  
Jensen may have left the real frightened and contrite Jared behind, but the image wouldn’t leave him. He couldn’t seem to lose his own shame either. He thought about how he had once been someone outside the cage, had been a spectator, barely better than those prodding and tugging Jared’s feathers. He saw the way Jared had flinched away from his touch over and over in his mind, and he couldn’t stop wondering if he’d imagined the way Jared responded to his grooming. Had Jared simply been afraid to stop him? But no, Jared had asked to be groomed. But then Jensen hadn’t exactly left it there. He flushed with shame at the thought, and resolved not to allow anything like that to happen again.  
  
It was dusk by the time Jensen’s concern overcame his embarrassment and he made his way home. Jensen flicked on the light in the living room and was surprised to find it had been cleaned. The broken dish was gone, the floor swept, Jensen’s mail and various files carefully stacked. Jared was on the couch, lying on his side, face pressed against the backrest. His wings hung off the edge, one trailing along the floor, the other resting on the coffee table. They rose and fell with his breathing, and Jensen was sorely tempted to run a hand along one, just to feel those glossy, soft feathers one more time. He held himself in check though, and went to make dinner.  
  
***  
  
Jared hadn’t meant to fall asleep; he’d only been sitting for a while to rest after dragging himself around the apartment, but suddenly it was dark and there was clattering and thuds from the kitchen and a mouthwatering aroma filling the air. Jared stood up, stretching his wings and his back. Holding onto the wall to avoid falling or passing out again, he made his way to the kitchen. He stopped to rest in the doorway, and found Jensen moving gracefully around the kitchen, shirt sleeves rolled up, light sheen of sweat on his brow. Jared couldn’t help staring. Jensen seemed more at peace than Jared had ever seen him, and Jared, not wanting to disturb him, turned to leave.  
  
“Jared! You’re up!” Jensen said, and Jared could hear the grin in his voice even before he turned around. Sure enough, Jensen’s mouth was pulled into a picture perfect smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Jared had never seen Jensen’s clear green eyes so shuttered before. He quickly looked down and mumbled something about not wanting to bother Jensen, before trying once again to leave.  
  
“It’s fine, stay, stay. Please,” Jensen said, and though his voice was casual, it sounded forced. Jared sat on a barstool and watched Jensen cook, trying not to be obvious. There was tension in Jensen’s shoulders now, and he moved quickly, without the grace Jared had seen earlier. Jared wanted to apologize again, to explain - what, he didn’t know - but he knew not to speak unless spoken to, had had that lesson beaten into him on many occasions. He could show Jensen how good he was, how quiet and obedient. He wouldn’t break anything else. If Jensen ever wanted to groom him again, Jared would just have to keep himself under control. It hadn’t helped that Jensen was so good at it.  
  
“Jared!” Jensen was waving, trying to get his attention, and Jared realized he’d been daydreaming, imagining those deft hands on his wings, warm breath on the back of his neck, gentle tugs and perfect pressure. Jared could feel heat rush to his face as he met Jensen’s eyes.  
  
***  
  
Jensen had been asking Jared if he wanted juice. Not exactly risqué, as questions go, but for some reason Jared was blushing like he’d just revealed his most embarrassing secret. Jensen realized Jared hadn’t heard a word of what he was saying and repeated himself. Jared just nodded somewhat dazedly.  
  
Jensen handed Jared a plate and they ate at the kitchen counter, neither saying a word. He sent an exhausted-looking Jared back to the living room to watch TV while he did the dishes. Jensen found him there, sitting somewhat awkwardly with his wings hanging over the back of the couch, staring at the blank television. Jensen stood behind him for a moment, wanting nothing more than to run a hand along one wing, just for a moment. Or maybe through silky brown hair. Or over all that smooth, tanned skin. Jensen sat on the couch and turned on the TV. He could feel Jared shooting him glances and tried to ignore it until finally, he screwed up his courage and turned to face him.  
  
“About earlier... look, I’m really sorry about that, okay? It won’t happen again. You don’t have to be afraid of me.” Jensen stared at a spot above Jared’s left shoulder while he spoke, but now he watched Jared. Jared’s forehead was creasing, in worry or puzzlement, Jensen wasn’t sure. Jared dropped his gaze and spoke, faint blush creeping up his cheeks.  
  
“You’re the best.. the best keeper I’ve ever had.” Jared blushed further before continuing in a whisper. “I liked it. Please.”  
  
Jensen was dumbstruck. Jared thought of him as his keeper? All this time, Jensen had been thinking he’d liberated Jared, but to Jared, this was just another cage. Jensen barely heard the rest of what Jared had said.  
  
“That’s not. I don’t....” Jensen started. “I’m not your keeper Jared. You’re free to leave whenever you want. I mean, I hope you’ll stay while you heal, but after that you can go. I’m not keeping you here.”  
  
Jared nodded and turned back to the TV. Jensen supposed that was as much forgiveness as he deserved, and hoped that maybe Jared would start to believe that Jensen wouldn’t hurt him.  
  
When Jared was visibly struggling to stay awake, Jensen awkwardly helped him back to bed and spent another night on the couch.  
  
***  
  
When Jared woke, the words were still playing over and over in his head. I’m not keeping you here. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to face Jensen. He wondered how many days he had left. He wondered if he could change Jensen’s mind.  
  
“Jared?” The soft voice was barely above a whisper. Jared turned his head and saw Jensen standing in the doorway, towel wrapped around his waist,  water dripping onto the floor. “Can I grab some clothes?”  
  
Jared quickly rolled himself to a kneeling position on the bed, head bowed, hands in his lap. Jensen paused, then shook his head and continued to the closet. Jared watched through his bangs as Jensen started to look through his clothes.  
  
Jared knew he shouldn’t be looking. Shouldn’t be noticing rivulets of water making their way down Jensen’s neck and back. Shouldn’t be itching to touch the spiky wet hairs at the nape of his neck, see if they were soft or bristly. He definitely shouldn’t be noticing where the towel opened slightly at Jensen’s thigh. Jared awkwardly shifted, trying to hide the evidence of his arousal.  
  
Jensen found what he was looking for and turned to leave. As he reached the door, he turned back to Jared.  
  
“You don’t have to do that kneeling thing, you know. Really. I’m not... You really don’t have to do that,” Jensen said, before quickly exiting the room.  
  
Jared collapsed down on the bed. He knew Jensen regretted the time he’d groomed Jared, and especially what it had led to. He knew Jensen didn’t want him. He couldn’t let himself want this.  
  
Somehow none of that prevented him from grinding down against the sheets, just once, before forcing himself out of bed.  
  
***  
  
Jensen was still blushing as he made breakfast. He’d seen exactly what Jared was trying to hide as he walked by Jared on his way out of the room, and had realized what he must have been interrupting. Embarrassment and arousal had flooded him, and he’d meant to just leave quickly. But no, he hadn’t been able to resist turning back, his vacant brain providing the only reason he could think of: to tell Jared that he didn’t have to kneel before Jensen. And that had brought on a whole new hoard of images, as well as the realization that Jared had stopped what he was doing to kneel for Jensen, on his bed, practically naked. Jensen groaned and made himself another cup of coffee.  
  
When Jared appeared, hair still wet from the shower, and hovered hesitantly in the doorway, Jensen was on his third cup. He took one look at Jared’s damp skin and freshly shaven jaw and turned away, mindlessly rummaging through cupboards.  
  
“Eggs okay?” Jensen asked, not turning around.  
  
“Yes. Please,” came Jared’s low reply. His voice hadn’t yet lost its roughness. Jensen supposed it was because Jared never seemed to speak unless spoken to. He was wondering if he could coax an actual conversation out of Jared without doing something horribly embarrassing like licking the man’s collar bone or maybe just running his lips along that perfectly smooth jawline, when he turned to find himself inches away from Jared, who was reaching for the eggs sitting on the counter.  
  
***  
  
Jensen had seemed to be having some trouble doing anything at all in the kitchen, and Jared finally found the courage to get up and help him. Jared didn’t know if he had permission to touch anything in the kitchen, but on the other hand, Jensen had just opened and closed the same drawer three times without seeming to notice. Jared was just reaching for the eggs when Jensen turned towards him, stopping an inch from him with a huff of surprise, wide eyes on his. Jared quickly dropped his gaze and mumbled an apology. He stayed that way, head bowed and wings lowered, waiting for Jensen to react, to admonish him for being in the way, to tell him to get out. Jensen didn’t say anything, the silence stretching between them until Jared could barely stand it. He risked a glance up to Jensen’s face, and found Jensen flushed, gaze fixed on Jared’s mouth. Jared forgot his fear for a moment as he watched Jensen’s eyes trail lower, down Jared’s throat, to run over Jared’s chest. Jared could feel Jensen’s stare like a physical touch, leaving a crawling heat in its wake. Jared found himself leaning forward almost imperceptibly, watching as Jensen’s pupils dilated, as his lips parted, breath coming quicker.  
  
Jensen’s gaze snapped back to Jared’s and he took a sudden step back. Jared was halfway to kneeling when he remembered Jensen’s words, and slowly raised himself back up. Jensen was watching him warily. Jared quietly handed the eggs to Jensen and retreated to his stool.  
  
***  
  
Jensen watched Jared back away from him and tried furiously to stop the blush rising from his neck, spreading along his cheeks. He made Jared breakfast and announced he was going to work, asking Jared if he needed anything, asking if he wanted to do something. Jared mumbled a polite “no thank you”, and Jensen left, trying to quell the pit of shame in his stomach at running away like a coward.  
  
When Jensen returned in the early evening, it was to find Jared lying on the floor, slowly raising and lowering his wings. Jensen watched as the muscles in Jared’s back flexed and rolled, wings moving in graceful, controlled motions. Jared’s head snapped up as the door shut behind Jensen and he scrambled to his knees, wings folding tightly behind him. Jensen debated once again asking Jared not to do that, but the light sheen of sweat covering Jared’s skin was a distraction behind his powers of concentration, so he just turned and walked away.  
  
Dinner that night was similarly awkward. Jared wouldn’t raise his eyes to meet Jensen’s unless Jensen asked directly, and then Jensen felt ridiculous forcing someone to stare at him when he wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say. Jensen had no idea where to start a conversation with Jared, but he desperately wanted to. Most of the meal was spent in silence, punctuated by Jensen’s halting questions and Jared’s mumbled replies.  
  
***  
  
Dinner had been awful. Jared wasn’t sure where he was supposed to look, if they were supposed to speak, how to show Jensen just how good he could be. Jensen was right there, just a few feet away, and yet he never seemed to want to come closer.  
  
Sitting on the couch with Jensen promised to be a new brand of torture. The man was actually within a foot of Jared. It would be so easy for Jensen to reach over and touch him, anywhere, just once, just one more time. Jared held his breath and slid over until his thigh was flush against Jensen’s, and tried to muffle his sigh of relief. Tingling warmth spread over him, and his wings fluttered slightly. Jensen looked up at them, and Jared quickly tried to fold them.  
  
“Earlier, were you... was that... to make them stronger?” Jensen asked, eyes still on Jared’s wings.  
  
Jared breathed a sigh of relief, then nodded.  
  
“Can you fly?”  
  
Jared nodded again, and glanced up to see Jensen’s reaction. Jensen’s eyes were wide, impossibly green as he stared at Jared’s folded wings, seemingly entranced. Jensen reached one hand out to gently smooth ruffled feathers down, and Jared tried to muffle his groan of pleasure.  
  
Jensen quickly withdrew his hand.  
  
“Does that feel good?” he asked, sounding curious.  
  
Jared blushed furiously and nodded. He couldn’t imagine how Jensen had missed just how good it had felt to be groomed. Just the memory of it sent heat racing up his spine, his wings itching to spread and flex, want twisting low in his belly. He didn’t dare look up, certain his arousal was written all over his face.  
  
Jensen stood up suddenly, backing away from the couch.  
  
“I’m just gonna... get ready for bed. Good night,” Jensen stammered, before half stumbling, half running down the hall to the bathroom. Jared flinched at the slamming door and exhaled shakily. He heard the shower come on and spared a moment’s curiosity at Jensen showering twice in one day, but that led to thoughts of Jensen showering, and Jensen in only a towel that morning, warm clean skin and disheveled wet hair. Jared considered staying on the couch to wait until Jensen came out and just outright begging, but he forced himself up, off the couch, and into bed.  
  
***

Jensen left early for work the next morning, unable to face Jared and the humiliating way their conversation had ended the previous evening. He sort of couldn’t believe he ran away to the bathroom to jerk off, but his ability to keep his hands to himself had reached its limits. Jensen promised himself he wouldn’t take advantage of Jared like that, but watching Jared blush, watching his breath come faster and his pink lips part and his hands curl into fists had been more than Jensen could take.  
  
Jensen had intended on staying away for the whole day, thinking that it was best to put some distance between him and Jared, maybe remind himself of his real life. He found himself rushing home at lunchtime, certain that Jared would be gone, or hurt, or hungry. As Jensen burst into the apartment, he found Jared on the couch, watching TV with a blanket wrapped around him and a sandwich halfway to his mouth. Jared froze, wings snapping down tight to his body, hands shaking slightly. Jensen sighed, dropping his bag and stepping forward. Jared flinched slightly as Jensen came closer, and Jensen stopped.

“Sorry, sorry, did I scare you? You’re not... I’m not mad about anything,” Jensen said, completely unsure of how to reassure Jared.  
  
Jared didn’t move for a moment, then he carefully put his food down and bowed his head. Jensen stared at him.  
  
“Jared. What are you doing?” Jensen asked, resisting the temptation to order Jared to look at him. He wished he could see those hazel, catlike eyes, but Jared seemed to hate eye contact.  
  
“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn't have, but I was hungry and I thought maybe...” Jared’s already quiet voice trailed off into nothing. His whole body was trembling slightly now, and Jensen ached to take him in his arms.  
  
“I don’t know what you did, Jared, but I’m sure it’s okay. I’m not mad, okay?” Jensen asked, crouching down so he was looking up into Jared’s face. Jensen was startled to see tears on Jared’s cheeks.  
  
***  
  
When Jared had woken up alone in the apartment, he’d been terrified. He’d been sure Jensen had finally seen through him, seen what Jared wanted and been so disgusted he’d just left. After searching the apartment for the third time, Jared had lain in bed and slowly calmed himself down. Jensen was probably at work, and he didn’t need to leave a note for Jared, it wasn’t like Jared was his, and anyway, even if Jensen never came back - Jared shoved down the fear that rushed up at that thought - Jared could survive on his own. Once he’d come to that conclusion, Jared found himself strangely calm, like he’d accepted his fate. He exercised his wings, stretched, showered, and finally dared turn on the TV. Then he’d started to feel hungry. Jared was used to distracting himself from hunger, and he did so now, but it was far less effective when there was food nearby, easily accessible. He’d gotten used to eating regularly, and his body was vociferously announcing its preference for things to remain that way. Jared padded to the kitchen.  
  
Stealing food was the second worst-punished transgression at the circus. The only thing worse than that was attempting to escape, but no one was that stupid. Except, apparently, Jared. He shuddered to think how he would be punished if he were found, before turning his attention to the food. Jared went through all the cupboards and the fridge, touching nothing, just looking. Jared told himself Jensen wouldn’t starve him. Jensen was kind, and he always fed Jared. But Jensen wasn’t there now, and Jared had no idea if he was allowed. He went back to the living room.  
  
Two hours later, Jared cracked. This wasn’t even close to the hungriest he’d ever been, and yet he could swear he hadn’t eaten in days. Jared made himself a sandwich and brought it out the living room to sit back down in his couch-nest of blankets and pillows. He was about to take a bite, stomach growling in approval, when the door burst open and ice flooded Jared’s veins.  
  
He tried to apologize, voice trembling and dying in his throat. Jensen was saying something, but Jared could barely hear over the thudding beat of his heart. This was it, this was finally going too far, and Jensen was bound to punish him. Jared could only beg not to be thrown out, not yet. Then Jensen was there, right at Jared’s eye level, saying something.  
  
“I’m not mad, okay?”  
  
Jared didn’t quite understand, but he finally realized he was supposed to respond and nodded dumbly, putting the food down. His hunger had disappeared anyway.  
  
***  
  
Jensen stayed crouched like that, waiting, until Jared finally nodded and put down his food. Jensen sighed in relief and reached forward to wipe the tears from Jared’s face, stopping himself just in time. Jared hadn’t flinched, hadn’t moved at all, and Jensen slowly pulled his hand away, moving to sit beside Jared on the couch.  
  
Jensen waited until he saw the bunched muscles in Jared’s neck and forearm start to relax. Jared seemed to slowly unfurl, wings spreading slightly from his body again, shoulders rolling back, head coming up to meet Jensen’s eyes. Jensen smiled encouragingly at him.  
  
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Jensen asked, figuring it best to get it out of the way. He was pretty sure there was nothing Jared could have broken that would actually get Jensen mad and he wanted Jared to know that too. Even if Jared had somehow destroyed Jensen’s computer, or hell, even his entire office, Jensen wouldn’t so much as raise his voice at Jared. When Jared finally spoke, it was in a small voice laced with confusion and apprehension.  
  
“I stole food,” Jared said, gesturing to the sandwich.  
  
“You stole...” Jensen dropped his head to his hands, resisting the urge to hit himself. He raised his head and looked Jared in the eye.  
  
“Jared... I’m really sorry. This was my fault. You can have any food in the kitchen, okay?” Jensen said, keeping his gaze locked on Jared, making sure he understood. “But even if you do something you think you’re not supposed to, I’m not going to punish you. I promise.”  
  
Jared stared at Jensen for a long time before nodding slowly. It was clear to Jensen that Jared didn’t quite believe him, and Jensen wished he could somehow order Jared to trust him. Instead, he got up from the couch and announced that Jared’s sandwich looked delicious and he was going to make himself one. By the time he returned to the couch, Jared seemed almost normal.  
  
As they ate, Jensen noticed Jared’s wings rising and falling, first one then the other, arching to touch the ceiling then stretching to reach the floor. He supposed Jared was exercising, and a thought occurred to him.  
  
“Do you think you’re strong enough to fly today?” Jensen asked. Jared had been about to take a bite, but he paused, stretching both wings out then flapping them gently down.  
  
“Maybe... I’m not sure,” Jared answered, a thoughtful expression on his face. Jensen relished the lack of fear in Jared’s eyes, the little crinkles in Jared’s forehead as he considered, the way he bit his lip as he brought his wings down once again, as though testing their strength.  
  
“Do you want to try?” Jensen asked, beginning of a smile playing on his lips.  
  
Jared’s eyes widened and he nodded eagerly.  
  
***  
  
They went to a lake Jensen used to fish in with his father. It was too cloudy and cold out to be called a nice day, and they were the alone. Jensen helped Jared out of the car though he didn’t seem to need it anymore. His bruises were faded or gone, and all but the very worst of his cuts had healed. Best of all, he didn’t flinch or cringe every time Jensen moved.  
  
Once they were out on the open grassy area near the water, Jared turned to Jensen.  
  
“Can I? Please?” he added, as if catching himself.  
  
Jensen just laughed and said, “Go. But come back, okay?” He didn’t miss the pleasure on Jared’s face at his words, and felt warmth spread in his belly.  
  
Jared turned and walked several yards away and lifted his wings high. They came down hard, and Jared rose up. Jensen watched Jared rise higher and higher, spiralling up until he could be mistaken for a bird. He soared over the lake, dipping closer to the water, before circling back to skim the treetops.  
  
***  
  
Jared was on his fifth pass over the lake when he realized it had probably been over an hour, and besides the fact that his wings were going to be incredibly sore tomorrow, Jensen was waiting for him. Jensen. Jensen who had given him this. Jensen who had freed him from the cage. Jared’s heart felt too big, but up here it wasn’t frightening. There was no trapped feeling, no fear. No one could touch him here, not unless he said so. Jared felt powerful, and alive, and real, for the first time in years. He folded his wings and dove toward the little black speck that was Jensen, sitting next to the car. Jared flared his wings at the last moment and landed, stumbling onto the grass, laughing. Jensen was getting up, grinning at him, and Jared couldn’t stop himself. He threw himself at Jensen, wrapping his arms around him and his wings around both of them.  
  
The exhilaration of flying only carried Jared so far, and he finally woke up to the tension in Jensen’s shoulders, the way the other man was frozen in place. Jared pulled away to find Jensen’s smile had disappeared, replaced by a tense, unreadable expression. Jared quickly stepped back, folding his wings.  
  
“I’m sorry I took so long, I lost track of the time, I’m sorry,” Jared said quickly, staring at the ground between them.  
  
Jensen sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, and turned to the car.  
  
“It’s okay, Jared. Are you ready to go home?”  
  
Jared nodded and folded himself into the passenger seat, wings hanging over into the backseat. Jensen got in and said quietly, “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Jared. Really.”  
  
Jared nodded, head falling against the window. The physical and emotional exertion of flying had left him exhausted, and he let his eyelids drop as Jensen silently drove them home.  
  
Jared barely seemed to wake up while Jensen struggled to get him upstairs to bed. Apparently, a sleepy Jared was a handsy Jared, and Jensen found himself pushing Jared’s hands back up to his shoulders multiple times as they stumbled down the hall. Jared pulled Jensen down onto the bed with him, snuggling into Jensen’s neck as Jensen tried to remind himself why he had to go sleep on the couch. Alone.  
  
“Jared... Jared! Stop!” Jensen said, voice barely above a whisper but enough to wake Jared, who froze, then slowly pulled his hands away, letting them slide along Jensen’s chest, down his stomach, lingering on his hip before finally curling protectively in front of Jared.  
  
***  
  
Jared didn’t remember getting into bed, but he did remember the warmth surrounding him, hands gentle but firm on him as they maneuvered his body.  
  
“Jared! Stop!”  
  
It was Jensen’s voice, and Jared froze, unsure of what he was supposed to stop doing. Then he realized where he was. Pressed along Jensen’s side, his face buried in the spot where neck met shoulder, his hands roaming Jensen’s body. Jared pulled his hands away with difficulty.  
  
Jensen sighed, rolling onto his back. The motion pulled his shirt up, a strip of skin exposed above his pants. Jared curled himself forward and licked it. Salt, and warmth, and safety. Jensen shuddered, and Jared nudged the shirt up higher, this time kissing the skin just above Jensen’s belly button. Jensen’s hands came up to cup the air around Jared’s head, stopping just short of touching, and Jared pushed himself up into Jensen’s palms. He let out a groan the moment Jensen’s hands were on him, pleasure pushing any remnants of fear out of his mind. Jensen’s fingers raked through his hair, lightly scraping down Jared’s neck, and he arched his back as the sensation rolled through him. Jensen still wasn’t looking at him, and Jared didn’t like that, so he leaned in and nipped Jensen’s hipbone. Jensen’s head snapped down, meeting Jared’s eyes, and Jared was pleased to see arousal in those clear green eyes. He brushed his lips along Jensen’s skin, from one hipbone to the other, eyes not leaving Jensen’s. Jared’s hands slid to the button of Jensen’s pants, and Jensen jumped, grabbing Jared’s wrists.  
  
***  
  
Jensen had just been feeling proud of himself for telling Jared to stop when he felt Jared’s hot wet tongue reach his skin. He only barely managed to come to his senses in time to stop Jared from undressing him, and a good portion of him was screaming to let it happen. Jensen shoved that thought down, gently removing Jared’s hands from the button on his pants. Jared was looking up at him, panting slightly, hands convulsively opening and closing. He rolled to his knees as Jensen propped himself on his elbows, and quietly whispered, “Please.”  
  
Jensen could only stare as Jared lowered his eyes, blush creeping up his neck, spreading across his cheeks.  
  
“Please,” Jared repeated, his trembling hand reaching for Jensen’s. Jensen couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe as Jared took his hand and placed it on his chest, shuddering at the touch. Jared looked up, color deepening on his cheeks as he met Jensen’s gaze.  
  
“Please.”  
  
Jensen moved then, sliding his hand up Jared’s chest to curl around the back of his neck, pulling him toward Jensen. Jared fell forward, landing with one hand on either side of Jensen, his breath hot on Jensen’s lips. Jensen’s other hand found its way to Jared’s lower back, running up and up over smooth skin until it reached soft feathers. Jensen ran his fingers through them, eyes never leaving Jared, revelling in the shudder that passed through him at Jensen’s touch. Jensen’s other hand slid down to Jared’s other wing, and he watched Jared close his eyes and arch into the touch. Jared was breathing hard, hips moving in time with Jensen’s strokes. When Jensen pulled his hands away, Jared whined, opening his eyes. He squirmed until he felt Jensen’s hands, starting to unfasten his pants. Jensen paused and looked up at Jared.  
  
“Okay?” he whispered. Jared nodded, tugging his boxers down with his pants and kicking them off with his shoes. Jensen started to sit back up, but Jared threw a leg over his hips, straddling him. He pushed Jensen back down, hands on Jensen’s shoulders, and pressed his lips to Jensen’s. Jensen had expected Jared to be shy, reserved, in this like he was in everything else. Jared kissed like he was making sure Jensen was all there, tongue running along the roof of Jensen’s mouth, hand skimming along Jensen’s stomach before tightening at his hip, teeth biting into Jensen’s lower lip. Jensen groaned at the sharp pain, hips lifting to thrust at the air between them. Jared gave up Jensen’s lips to leave a trail of gentle bites along Jensen’s jaw, down his neck, before nipping at Jensen’s collar bone. Deft fingers were unbuttoning Jensen’s shirt, pulling it off and throwing it to the side. Jensen moved to push Jared up, desperate to touch, to kiss, to do something, but Jared just pressed him back into the mattress, looking up at him before brushing soft kisses down Jensen’s chest.  
  
Jensen inhaled sharply when Jared caught one nipple between his lips, giving it a gentle tug before moving lower still, tongue drawing loopy patterns along Jensen’s ribs, around his belly button, to the fine hairs disappearing under his pants. Jared looked up at Jensen then, eyes wide and dark, and hesitated.  
  
“Can I..?” Jared asked, hands hover above the button of Jensen’s pants. Jensen couldn’t speak, could barely manage a jerky nod. Jensen had been hard and leaking since Jared first touched him, the barest drag of his pants and boxers being tugged off had him shaking and panting. He tried to hold still as Jared undressed him, to give Jared control.  
  
Jared crawled back up Jensen’s body and pressed them together, chest to chest, hip to hip, cock to cock. Jensen shuddered at the touch, hips jerking involuntarily, drawing a stuttering moan from Jared. Jensen slipped a hand between them and stroked them together, watching Jared bite his lip, forehead creasing, sweat dampening his temples. Jared thrust in and out of the circle of Jensen’s fist, cock rubbing against Jensen’s, every stroke a shock of pleasure bringing him closer to the edge.  
  
With his other hand, Jensen reached awkwardly around Jared and found one wing. He raked his fingers through the feathers, and Jared’s rhythm stuttered, a breathy moaned word lost somewhere in that mane of glossy brown hair. Jensen ran his fingers through the feathers again, and this time heard him loud and clear.  
  
“Jensen,” Jared was sighing as he arched his back and wings, muscles in his shoulders rippling and bunching, eyes shut, lips bitten pink and cheeks flushed red. The word sent a shot of heat straight to Jensen’s core, his cock jumping and heart thudding, blood pulsing hot in his veins.  
  
Jensen grabbed a handful of feathers and tugged once, gently but firmly. Jared’s cock stiffened in Jensen’s hand and he came with a sharp cry, hips slamming forward, forehead pressed against Jensen’s shoulder. There was a crash and the sound of a door slamming, but Jensen was lost in the white hot pleasure spiralling through him.  
  
When Jensen opened his eyes, hand caught between their bodies going numb, it was to something of a wreckage. His door was cracked, a lamp and half his bookshelf were on the floor, and there was half a chair next to his broken mirror. Jensen groaned and wrapped his arms around Jared, relishing the weight on him, every inch of them pressed together. Jared shifted to his side, burrowing into Jensen’s neck, one leg still hooked around Jensen’s hips. Jensen wriggled one leg until it reached the blanket, and he pulled it over them, surrendering to the bone-deep exhaustion as he pressed his lips to Jared’s temple.  
  
***  
  
The sound of clinking glass and rustling feathers drew Jensen out of a dreamless sleep. He stretched out his arm and was disappointed to find only empty sheets. Propping himself on one elbow, he peered over the edge of the bed to find Jared on his knees, picking broken glass off the floor. An uneasy feeling grew in the pit of Jensen’s stomach, and he swung his legs to sit on the edge of the bed.  
  
“Jared, what are you doing?” Jensen asked, trying to keep his voice light.  
  
Jared’s head snapped up and he froze, before carefully placing the broken glass in the trash beside him and shuffling forward.  
  
“Last night, my wings, I think they... I think when I...” Jared trailed off, blush creeping up his chest and staining his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.  
  
Jensen felt the guilt like a blow to the stomach, low and heavy. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to find the words that would make Jared see he was safe with Jensen. When he opened them, it was to Jared’s red rimmed eyes and wet cheeks. Jensen lurched forward without thinking, his hand an inch from wiping Jared’s cheek when he froze as Jared once again flinched away from him. Jensen pulled away as if burned.  
  
“I didn’t bring you here to punish you, Jared. Remember? You’re not in the cage anymore.” Jensen said gently. Jared’s head dropped, his shoulders sagged and his wings fell with a soft thwump to the floor.  
  
“I know,” came Jared’s almost inaudible reply. “I’m better now, I can fly and everything. I’ll go, I can leave today.”  
  
Jensen blinked. Jared was leaving. He forced down his panic and tried to keep his voice steady.  
  
“Why don’t you go take a shower, Jared, I’ll clean up the rest here,” Jensen said softly, not looking at Jared. Jared slowly rose and gingerly made his way to the bathroom, wings drooping behind him. Jensen fell back against the bed, mind a blur, trying to recall the exact events of the previous night, if there had been any doubt, if Jared had felt this was owed or something. Finally, he pushed himself up off the bed, knees protesting as he bent to clean the rest of the mess off the floor. They’d have to clear the furniture away from the bed next time, Jensen thought for a moment, before remembering the likelihood of there being a next time.  
  
***  
  
Jared’s whole body ached but his wings were especially excruciating after the previous day’s flight. He spent too long in the shower, lingering over every spot he could remember Jensen touching, stretching the time until he had to leave. Try as he might, Jared couldn’t block the words from repeating over and over in his head. “I didn’t bring you here to punish you, Jared.” “I’m not keeping you here.”  
  
When he finally forced himself to get out of the shower, Jensen wasn’t in the bedroom. There were clothes folded on the freshly-made bed, and Jared put them on. Jensen was in the kitchen, clutching a cup of coffee like a lifeline. There was a stack of chocolate chip pancakes before him, and Jared accepted a plate with nothing more than a polite “thank you”. Jared ate as slowly as he could, watching Jensen clean a pan with more ardor than strictly necessary. When he could no longer pretend to be pushing nonexistent food around his plate, Jared slowly stood and cleared his throat. Jensen turned to face him, blank faced and straight backed.  
  
“Where will you go?” Jensen asked, staring at a spot on the wall.  
  
“I don’t know,” Jared answered truthfully. He shifted awkwardly, willing Jensen to look at him, before continuing, “Thank you. For helping me, and getting me out, and for... for last night,” Jared finished, heat rushing to his face. He stubbornly refused to look away as Jensen continued not to look at him, despite the rush of shame for being so bold, for pushing this way. It had been clear that Jensen didn’t want to mention last night, but Jared couldn’t leave this way. He could barely stand to leave at all, half wanted to get on his knees and beg, but he was still mortified at having done just that the previous night.  
  
***  
  
They walked to the door in silence, Jensen’s heart growing heavier with every step. Jared turned to face Jensen on the threshold, his eyes sweeping over Jensen, lingering on his eyes, his lips, as though trying to memorize every detail. Jensen couldn’t move, rooted to the spot, ache building inside until he could barely breathe.  
  
Finally, because he had to say something, Jensen said in a croak, “If you ever need anything, you know where I am.”  
  
Jared nodded, and Jensen rifled through his wallet to hand him a business card, feeling increasingly panicked and trying hard not to show it. Jared thanked him politely, voice hushed, and turned to leave. Jensen watched him go, wings awkwardly tucked under the heavy coat Jensen had given him, visible under the hem. Jensen had tucked some cash into the pocket and hoped that Jared wouldn’t be insulted; he just couldn’t bear the thought of Jared out there alone. When Jared was long gone and Jensen realized he was still standing in the doorway staring at an empty hallway, he slowly shut the door and started back toward the living room. He collapsed onto the couch, curled around the void in his chest, and tried to remember how to breathe.  
  
***  
  
The pounding at the door dragged Jensen from his almost-sleep and he groaned, burying his his head under a couch cushion. It had been a week since Jared left, and Jensen had only moved from the couch for short excursions to the kitchen or bathroom. The first night, Jensen had tried to sleep in his own bed. He’d made it halfway into his bedroom before he smelled Jared, saw him everywhere he looked, could practically taste him again. Jensen had stumbled back to the couch, grateful no one could see this pathetic new side of him. Which was why the knocking at the door was was inconvenient to say the least.  
  
Jensen groaned as whoever it was - and Jensen had a nagging suspicion he knew - refused to take the hint. He dragged himself off the couch, not bothering to remove the various blankets piled around his shoulders, and shuffled to the door.  
  
“Finally! Christ, you look like shit,” Danneel said, elbowing Jensen out of the way and making herself at home, shoving Jensen’s mess off the coffee table to make room for her feet.  
  
“Hi,” Jensen said, voice sandpaper rough.  
  
Danneel opened her mouth to reply, then looked up at Jensen. She slowly closed her mouth and patted the cushion beside her. Jensen curled up on the couch, his head on Danneel’s shoulder, and she gently stroked his back as he sank into sleep.  
  
***  
  
A week later, Jensen was back at work. He was showered, his apartment was spotless, and he’d even succeeded in not freaking out over the single brown feather he’d found behind his hamper this morning. Jensen managed a polite smile at everyone who spoke to him, even Gary, and if he was a bit distant, no one seemed to notice. Jensen relished the distraction of being back at the office, and dreaded returning to his apartment. He mindlessly flicked through the channels as he ate dinner, keeping his mind carefully on work, or TV, or Danneel’s latest campaign to get him laid. He woke up on the couch the next day and promised himself he’d sleep in his bed soon.  
  
***  
  
The lake was perfectly still. Jensen didn’t remember how he’d gotten there. He took a step toward the edge and found himself knee deep in strangely lukewarm water. Jensen tried to step back out of it, but his shoes were stuck in the mud. The water wasn’t still anymore; it was churning, something moving just under the surface. Jensen peered at the water, trying to see through the agitation. There were wings under the water, and Jensen felt a stab of panic as he realized Jared was pinned underwater, fighting to come up for air. Jensen woke with a start, fear still coursing through him. He lay there, trying to breathe evenly, staring at his dark ceiling.  
  
***  
  
The third time Jensen had the nightmare, he drove to the lake. It was just past 3 in the morning, the moon gray shadows on the dirt path leading to the shore. Jensen got out and stood next to his car, exactly where he’d been when he was watching Jared fly. He stared at the calm water. No hint of movement, not that Jensen had been expecting it, not really. It was cold, frigid November a shock to his lungs, waking him fully. He huffed out a breath and watched the tiny cloud dissipate. It was a relief to do something irrational for once, to come out here just because of a nightmare, to admit that he wasn’t entirely okay.  
  
Jensen lay back on the damp grass and stared up at the sky. The water was lapping softly at the shore, and the sound was so relaxing. Despite the cold, Jensen felt himself getting drowsy again. He watched an owl circle overhead, dropping lower with every pass. When it flew in front of the moon, silhouetted against gleaming white, Jensen bolted upright. He’d been sure... Jensen scrambled to his car and drove home too fast, breathing too hard, telling himself it was in his head, wishful thinking, just the dream, the moon, an illusion. He tossed and turned for hours before falling into a dream about creatures with wings and hooked claws tearing him apart under an indifferent moon.  
  
***  
  
Jensen went back to the lake the following night. He waited anxiously beside his car, fidgeting, getting up to pace every few minutes. Sometime around 4, Jensen saw it. Him. Definitely Jared, now that Jensen knew what he was looking for. Jensen sagged against the car in relief, filling his eyes with Jared, with everything he’d been missing. Jared was too far away for Jensen to see his face, but his wings, his body...  
  
It took Jensen a while to realize Jared was circling him, coming closer and closer. When Jensen noticed, he debated driving away, but he knew Jared must have recognized him. Jensen was surprised to find he wasn’t embarrassed to be caught watching Jared like this. He felt a strange sense of tranquility, like nothing could go wrong. He supposed it made sense; things couldn’t really get worse than they had been for the past weeks. That was Jensen’s last rational thought as Jared landed in front of him, wings flaring.  
  
Jared stepped within arm’s reach of Jensen, and Jensen didn’t hesitate. He ran one hand up Jared’s chest to grip at the back of Jared’s neck and draw him closer. Jared’s arms came around to wrap around Jensen, holding him tighter than would normally be comfortable but didn’t seem nearly tight enough now. Jared closed the distance between their lips, pressing gently, sucking on Jensen’s lower lip before sliding his tongue tentatively inside. Something in Jensen seemed to break loose, and he found himself wrapped around Jared, tongue twisting and curling against Jared’s, soft moans leaving his mouth, hands buried in Jared’s hair.  
  
Some remnant of coherent thought was rattling around the back of Jensen’s empty brain, something about a bad idea and a heart getting broken but Jared barely let him pull away long enough to take a shuddering breath, much less actually stop.  
  
Jensen captured Jared’s lower lip in his teeth, tugging gently, and Jared groaned, hands tightening on Jensen’s back. Jared walked Jensen back until he was pressed against the car, not lifting his lips from Jensen’s for a moment. Jensen felt the hard line of Jared’s cock pressing against his hip and shifted against it, drawing another moan from Jared.  
  
Jensen felt himself growing almost frantic, needing Jared right now and he fumbled at Jared’s pants, hands shaking. Jared gently removed Jensen’s hands and undid the buttons himself, pulling his cock out, and Jensen pushed at Jared until they were flipped, Jared’s back against the car, Jensen pressed against him.  
  
Jensen dropped to his knees and heard a sharp intake of breath above him. He nuzzled the soft skin and hard flesh, grazing his lips up the shaft, revelling in the way Jared trembled slightly. When Jensen’s mouth closed around the head, Jared’s head snapped back, every muscle taut, fists clenched at his sides. Jensen ran his tongue along the underside of Jared’s cock as he slid his wet lips down the length, looking up at Jared through his lashes. Jared was breathing hard, lips parted, hands opening and closing at his side. The head of Jared’s cock bumped the back of Jensen’s throat and Jared groaned, hips shifting forward slightly. Jensen hummed in approval and slid his mouth back, hollowing his cheeks. Jensen worked his tongue against the bundle of nerves and Jared’s hips slammed forward before pulling back almost immediately, a shuddery “sorry, sorry” muttered from somewhere above Jensen.  
  
Jensen ached to see Jared lose control, to feel him use those powerful muscles to hold Jensen in place and take what he wanted, what Jensen was offering. He reached up and took Jared’s hand, placing it on the back of his head. Jared let out a soft, surprised gasp, ending on a moan when Jensen pressed his lips against the head of his cock. Jensen slid his wet lips along the head, parting them just slightly, just enough to tease, until Jared pushed his cock inside, big hand cupping the curve of Jensen’s head. Jared brought his other hand to stroke down Jensen’s cheek, to thumb Jensen’s jaw wider, before Jared thrust deeper.  
  
Jensen hollowed his cheeks and tilted his head just enough to open his throat, and Jared growled, thrust harder, faster. Jensen eyes were starting to water but he didn’t take them off Jared, watching Jared’s forehead crease and his face grow more flushed, eyes nearly black and jaw clenched. Jensen palmed his own cock through his pants and saw Jared’s eyes flick down to track the motion. Jared’s eyes widened slightly and his thrusts grew more erratic, mouth opening as if to speak. He managed a garbled “I’m gonna... I’m gonna,” before the sound devolved into softly chanting Jensen’s name as his hips stuttered. A hot rush of pleasure flooded Jensen at the sound, and he shoved himself further down Jared’s cock, swallowing around him, groaning as Jared pulled him back slightly.  
  
The taste of hot, salty come flooded Jensen’s mouth and he came, hips thrusting against his hand, trying to swallow through the haze of pleasure. He only partly succeeded, his lips and chin coated with come when he emerged from his stupor. Jared was kneeling before him, hands in Jensen’s hair, and then he was kissing him, licking the come off Jensen, feeding it back to him, biting Jensen’s swollen lips and pressing them together. Jensen sank into the kiss, into Jared’s arms, Jared’s wings wrapped around him, still somewhat crumpled from being pressed against the car.  
  
Jared was the one who finally pulled Jensen up, and wordlessly pushed Jensen into his car. Fear flooded Jensen for a moment, before Jared walked around to the passenger side and opened the door, shooting Jensen a timid look. Jensen nearly laughed; Jared looked completely debauched, hair a mess, lips swollen and bitten, cheeks still flushed, yet he looked so shy and unsure of himself as he hesitated.  
  
“Can I come with you?” Jared asked, shifting awkwardly. Jensen nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Jared got in and Jensen started the car, trying to wipe the grin off his face.  
  
***  
  
Jared fell asleep on Jensen’s shoulder on the way home. Jensen unnecessarily kept an arm around Jared on the way up to his apartment. Jared didn’t release Jensen’s hand as they both made their way to Jensen’s bedroom.  
  
They undressed each other, Jared sneaking in kisses and gentle touches every few seconds, Jensen playing with Jared’s feathers when his back was turned.  
  
They curled around each other on Jensen’s bed, Jared’s head on Jensen’s shoulder, one leg wrapped around Jensen’s, hand splayed across Jensen’s chest, Jensen’s arm around Jared, his hand in Jared’s feathers.  
  
“Why were you at the lake?” Jared asked, fidgeting hands betraying his casual voice.  
  
“I kept having this dream about it. You were there,” Jensen replied, stroking his thumb along Jared’s neck. “Why were you there?”  
  
“It’s the best place to fly. And it reminds me of you. And of that day you took me there,” Jared said, blushing slightly.  
  
The blush confused Jensen for a moment, until he remembered what else they did that day. He grinned.  
  
“That was a good day,” he said, turning to nuzzle into Jared’s hair. Jared nodded against him.  
  
They lay in silence for a while, then Jared turned to hide his face against Jensen’s neck, and spoke in a muffled whisper.  
  
“Can I stay?”  
  
Jensen could swear he felt his chest expand. He stumbled over his “yes” and found himself repeating it over and over again. Jared laughed and Jensen thought he would never get tired of the sound.


End file.
